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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29436021">Sub Rosa 2: Dom Top Rosa</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/friend_of_Lwaxana/pseuds/friend_of_Lwaxana'>friend_of_Lwaxana</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Trek: The Next Generation</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Age Difference, Candles, Gay Sex, Interspecies Romance, M/M, Scottish Character, Spanish Kink</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 16:47:30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,859</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29436021</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/friend_of_Lwaxana/pseuds/friend_of_Lwaxana</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Special for Valentine's Day, the sequel to Sub Rosa you didn't know you wanted.</p><p>Ronin's back, and he's all out of Howard women to romance. That leaves Wesley.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Wesley Crusher/Ronin</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Happy Valentine's Day! Please keep in mind that this is a completely serious work of romantic fiction.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Light the candle, Wesley,” he heard. </p>
<p><br/>
Wesley looked left and right, aghast. No one should be in the house with mom out picking up lunch.</p>
<p><br/>
“Liiigggghhhhtttt itttt” the voice hissed. </p>
<p>Darkness. Wesley felt a pull at his jumpsuit. The spandex wouldn’t give. It was hard to breathe so he pulled at his collar.  He passed out while green lightning flashed over his eyes. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>***</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Wesley blinked awake, slowly coming back to himself. <em>What happened?</em> </p>
<p>One minute he’d been folding old tartans and subtly tossing bunches of dusty dried herbs in the recycler, clearing the attic of what he privately thought of as mom’s Scottish pride museum, and the next...well, here he was on the floor. On the floor with—no, could this day get any dumber?—a mess decorating the front of his tight gray bodysuit in a fairly conspicuous area. That kind of thing hadn’t happened to him since he’d been a gawky teen occupying an unearned position on the bridge of the Enterprise. Then again he’d already been dusty and filthy from clearing out the attic, might as well finish the job. He reached for the last few artifacts, a bobbin of wool and a cracked black candle holder, and dumped them unceremoniously in the box on top of everything else. The top sealed with a click. </p>
<p>Well, at least that’s done, Wesley told himself, descending the stairs with the box in hand in search of a shower.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>***</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Later, back In his quarters aboard the <em>Magna Carta</em>, Wesley yawned and stretched, rubbing his eyes. It’d been a long day helping mom move out of her old house in San Francisco and get everything packed for the move to her retirement community on Raisa II. And best of all, he’d managed to dodge her attempts to foist all but one or two boxes on him. Few sons were as close to their mothers as Wesley and Beverly Crusher, but the woman was a known pack rat.</p>
<p>Deciding to skip dinner in favor of a nap, Wesley stretched out wide on the bed, groaning a little in pleasure at the feel of the crisp cool sheets. He was out in moments.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>***</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>Light the candle.</em>
</p>
<p>Wesley felt a gentle breeze caressing his forehead, as an alluring whisper filled the air around him.</p>
<p><em>Light the candle, my darling</em> </p>
<p>Wesley turned, strangely slowly as though gliding on the currents of warm air he felt all around him.  As much as he searched, he couldn’t find the source of the whispers, just catching glimpses of stormy gray eyes here, a billowing white sleeve there, and always that sandy blond hair blowing in the wind. </p>
<p>
  <em>Light it, and I will show you  pleasure as you have never known it before</em>
</p>
<p>The voice was coming from directly behind him. He whirled, and there—the stormy gray eyes, the sandy locks, there he was! The mysterious man was so beautiful it took his breath away.</p>
<p>“Light the candle, Wes.”</p>
<p>The man leaned in, taking Wesley in his welcoming arms and leaning in close to whisper in his ear in that musical lilt.</p>
<p>“Once it’s lit, you’ll be mine.”</p>
<p>Wesley didn’t think he’d ever wanted something so badly. But then, the soft but insistent chiming of his morning alarm started. </p>
<p>“You’ll be mine, Wesley.” The beautiful man smiled as he faded away, like the Cheshire Cat, leaving Wesley very awake and very much with an insistent erection.</p>
<p>
  <em>What was that? I’ve never had that kind of dream about a man before...</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>***</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The <em>Magna Carta</em> was a dream ship. Well, not the dream ship that the <em>Enterprise</em> was, but Wesley couldn’t always have what he wanted most. In fact, it was on the <em>Enterprise</em> where he last had a dream like that. It had felt confusing, when Ensign Lefler looked at him with her twinkling eyes. He remembered feeling a sense of betrayal to the blue-eyed captain who saw so much potential in him that actually wasn’t quite there.</p>
<p>Walking down the halls of the well-lit corridors, he turned right, nearly crashing into a sallow-faced Klingon. </p>
<p>“be'batlh Daghaj’a’?” he growled. Or perhaps the Klingon was female. Wesley was not sure.</p>
<p>“Hello there,” said Crusher, with a boyish grin. He nodded politely at the Klingon, moving around him. He felt a breeze on the back of his neck and his neck hairs standing on end for just a moment. His face fell.</p>
<p>Was that a sigh he heard in his ear? He turned back. The Klingon was on the other end of the corridor.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>***</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Now back in his quarters, Lieutenant Crusher let the doors close behind him. Lazily, he asked “Computer, play messages.”</p>
<p>“You have two recorded memos from Starfleet and nineteen messages on GrindStar.”</p>
<p>
  <em>GrindStar? I’ve never even heard of that.</em>
</p>
<p>“Computer, what is GrindStar?”</p>
<p>“GrindStar. An encrypted subspace relay system for men to connect with other likeminded men. Commonly used for casual encounters.”</p>
<p>Wesley thought for a second. “Play GrindStar messages.”</p>
<p>“Message One,” said the computer. Wesley couldn’t tell what he was listening to—it sounded like a windstorm. The lights in his quarters dimmed and brightened. “You’ll be mine.” The message finished.</p>
<p>“Message Two,” the computer continued. This time, a voice, smoother than silk, “Light the candle and you’ll be mine.”</p>
<p>
  <em>What candle?</em>
</p>
<p>“Message Three,” the computer purred. That same voice, insistent, “Light the caaaaaaaaandle!!!”</p>
<p>“Computer, delete messages!” Wesley snapped. </p>
<p>“Messages are deleted.” He went into his closet and pulled out the fine wine he purchased in California before he left. As he rounded out his pour—taking care not to waste a drop—he eased onto the Federation-issue settee. He felt himself release a breath he didn’t know he was holding. Reflecting on his most demanding career position yet, he drank the entire glass quickly, wondering how these GrindStar messages came to his computer. <em>That voice, it’s so familiar…</em></p>
<p>Another glass. He drank it slower this time.</p>
<p>Looking over at the bottle, he could see the label: Picard Vineyards. He smiled. It was only 2200 hours. Unzipping his jumpsuit, he let his other lieutenant out, and put his right hand to work.</p>
<p>As he closed his eyes, climaxing, he didn’t even notice the green lightning bolt over his head. And when he finally opened them, the mirror across from the settee showed a 34 year old boyish man in a partially disrobed Starfleet uniform, a small mess on it, and a long haired blond man in a ruffled shirt standing behind him.</p>
<p>“Hello, Wesley.”</p>
<p>“What the…?”</p>
<p>Darkness.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>Dear mom,</em>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <em>I hope you and Josue are settling in well on Raisa. Have you gotten to see the meteoric moon showers yet? I know you were looking forward to that. I can’t wait to visit whenever I can get some leave. </em>
  <br/>
  <em>Mom, I have a kind of update I wanted to give you. I’ve been putting it off but I think it’s something I want you to know. I know you remember all the girlfriends I had at the academy, and I just never could find the right one for me. But I think I’ve found the one now, and I can honestly say that no one could more shocked than me to find out, he’s a man.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Mom, I have a kind of update I wanted to give you. I’ve been putting it off but I think it’s something I want you to know. I know you remember all the girlfriends I had at the academy, and I just never could find the right one for me. But I think I’ve found the one now, and I can honestly say that no one could more shocked than me to find out, he’s a man.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>I know this is a lot to take in, but I honestly can’t wait for you to meet him! I guess I’m a little bit of a cliche, going off to space and falling for an older man, but he’s just such an old soul. And yes, mom, I must be reverting to type because he is Scottish. Anyway, when I’m with Ronin, I feel like I’ve come home.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <em>Love always,</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Wes</em>
</p>
<p><br/>***</p>
<p><br/>Lieutenant’s personal log. Star date 2385.2. The meaning of my life seems to have changed now that Ronin is here. Just one touch from him, and my heart is truly a-flutter. It is as if my eyes have been opened to a new existence and I can only think of a few things: me, Ronin, and our future together.  </p>
<p>Usually, the buzz and hubbub on the ship is energizing and exciting, and I just never know what new discoveries or problems await. Lately, it’s been dull and I can feel myself counting down until my shift has ended. My new passionate romance with Ronin is so erotic and exciting. Perhaps I have outgrown my place in Starfleet, because it just cannot compare to what Ronin has to give me. </p>
<p>I am so glad I lit that candle.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>***</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Back on the ship after his latest away mission, Wesley went to his quarters to draft a report. He began to dictate.</p>
<p>“The moon is cold, with a desert landscape. The arid air smells of nothing. Today’s discovery of human remains surprised us all—“</p>
<p>“You’re back Wesley. I missed you, Wesley. You. Are. My. Oxygen.” </p>
<p>As Ronin appeared then, he drew his face close to Wesley. The lieutenant felt weak at the knees and sighed deeply. Without hearing any buttons unsnapping or zippers unzipping, his jumpsuit flew off his body and he moaned “Oh, Ronin!”</p>
<p>Now naked, but not at all afraid, he saw Ronin before him and watched the ruffled blouse melt off his body. As he saw Ronin’s majestic nude silhouette become visible, he thought he heard a distant call of bagpipes. </p>
<p>Suddenly, Ronin vanished, a green cloud in his place. Wesley watched the cloud come closer. It enveloped him. The bagpipes grew louder. Ecstasy. <br/>On the table behind him, the old black candle holder with its dripping candle glowed just a little brighter. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>Dearest Wesley,</em>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <em>It is always good to hear from you. Life has really settled in here. Josue has programmed the replicator to make paella that tastes like the real thing! You were too young to remember, but I once took you to Spain when you were little. Your father and I ate by the beach. The hot chorizo was like none other. I hadn’t had paella since. You wouldn’t believe the spices Josue brought with him when we moved here. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <em>I am glad you shared with me that you met a special man. To be honest, I always wondered if you were what we on the Enterprise used to call a “friend of Lwaxana.” Certainly, it always seemed Geordi or Jean-Luc captured your affections more than any beautiful young girl on the Enterprise, and Deanna never could sense you looking down her shirt for too long...</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Anyway, tell me about this Ronin. I once knew a Ronin, but that was long ago and quite an embarrassing affair, really. I’ll have to tell you about it over some paella next time you visit. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Mom</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p><br/>***</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <em>Hi Mom,</em>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <em>Well I guess I don’t have to wonder anymore what people were saying about my rainbow striped sweater! Looking back at those holograms—what was I thinking?</em>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <em>I’ve never been a poet, but I feel like I’m just overwhelmed by the words when I’m with Ronin. He makes me think about our future together, maybe getting a little thatched cottage in the Scottish highlands out amongst the heather so we can spend our golden years peaceful and surrounded by beauty. Ronin loves Scotland, and I love that he’s such an old soul. He still dresses in ascots and vests, just like out of an old vid. He always says he’s 800 years old—he’s so silly! I love how he makes me laugh. I can’t wait for my shift to end each day so I can go home and tell him about my day, all cuddled up with his long sandy hair against my shoulder. I’ve never been the kind of person to say this, but Ronin is so wonderful I feel like he completes me. I honestly feel like I would be happy just to spend our life together, lighting Ronin’s special antique candle every night and just enjoying each other.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <em>But enough about me—it’s great to hear you and Josue are really settling in to explore gourmet cuisine. I wish I remembered that trip to Spain, it sounds so delightful. That’s the kind of thing I should be looking into planning with Ronin now, I guess! I’m sure you have your pick of beautiful beaches on Raisa, though. Have you gotten back into aqua hover skiing yet?</em>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <em>Got to go now—duty calling!</em>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <em>XOXO</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Wesley </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p><br/>***</p>
<p> </p>
<p><br/>“Okay, okay, Ronin! I’m done writing my subspace mail!” Wesley laughed, pushing Ronin playfully away from where he had unzipped Wesley’s uniform top to the shoulder and was slowly leaving a trail of burning kisses steadily downward.</p>
<p><br/>“I can’t help it, darling,” Ronin whispered, “You drive me mad with passion. I get so little time with you, when we’re together I can’t resist your charms.” </p>
<p><br/>He looked up to meet Wesley’s gaze, steel gray eyes intent. Wesley surged forward to meet him in a kiss, lips opening as Ronin’s tongue slipped inside, easily claiming the kiss. Ronin took his time, methodically exploring his young ingenue’s mouth once again. He could already feel the energy crackling between them. In fact, a green spark flew between their foreheads, but Wesley didn’t notice.</p>
<p><br/>Wesley moaned and slid down onto the bed, pulling Ronin down with him. He heard Ronin’s deep baritone chuckle above him.</p>
<p><br/>“So eager.”</p>
<p>“Only for you, Ronin,” Wesley panted, “Only ever for you.”</p>
<p>“Well, how can I resist that?” Ronin took this as his cue and waved away the young lieutenant’s uniform with a gesture, taking the opportunity to lick and bite a trail down the long graceful neck to his chest, pausing to slowly circle each nipple with his tongue until it turned to a tight nub. More moans followed, making Ronin grin against his lover’s skin. These Howard women—err, men. Always so responsive. He did enjoy making his lovers eager for him, no matter who they may be. </p>
<p>Ronin continued his path slowly downward, kissing down Wesley’s breast bone and belly, following the delightful trail of hair down to wear his cock strained against his Star Fleet regulation briefs. These Ronin also waved away with a hand. Once freed, Wesley’s cock stood proudly erect, and Ronin took a moment to admire it, from blushing shaft arising out of sweet light brown curls to the dusky red head, engorged and weeping precome where it jutted, an invitation to Ronin if there ever was one. But not yet.</p>
<p>Ronin licked his lips. Then he continued to tease, planting open mouthed kisses all around the base of Wes’ cock, anywhere but on it.</p>
<p>“Please, Ronin.” Even Wesley could hear how destroyed he sounded. It was music to Ronin’s ears.</p>
<p>“Please what, my darling?” He grinned sweetly, stroking the base of the shaft very lightly with his hand. Wesley moaned, thrusting weakly into the loose grip. It was too much, but still not enough.</p>
<p>“Please, more,” he rasped.</p>
<p>Ronin leaned down to press a kiss to the head and Wesley whined.</p>
<p>“Shh, relax, love,” he murmured, now grasping Wesley’s cock and using his thumb to rub the head in firm circles, spreading the slick precome over it. “More what? Tell me what it is you need.”</p>
<p>“I need,” he paused to gasp as Ronin gave a firm stroke from stem to stern of his most precious ship of all, “you—your—your mouth-“<br/>Immediately Ronin bent down to put his mouth on the head of Wes’ cock, suckling firmly and stroking with his hand. </p>
<p>“I—I—“ Wesley sobbed above him and Ronin pulled off his cock with an audible pop, continuing to stroke his cock slowly but firmly from root to tip.</p>
<p>“You what, darling? You’ve got my mouth just now, hmm?” He paused to kiss Wesley  for good measure, the man’s mouth warm and yielding as always. “What do you need now?”</p>
<p>“I—I—“ Wesley swallowed, “I just need you, Ronin.” Ronin kissed him again. “Inside me—please!”</p>
<p>The invitation he’d been waiting for. Because Ronin did so like an invitation, if he could get it.</p>
<p>“Don’t worry, dear, I’ll give you exactly what you want.”</p>
<p>Wesley sobbed in relief as Ronin gathered his green energy about him, then with maximal force penetrated Wesley’s body and mind with his cloud, bringing them into Union and Wesley into instant and ecstatic climax. Ronin reveled in drinking in the young man’s energy as it poured forth from him.  </p>
<p>Exhausted, Wesley slumped down to lay on the bed. And, satisfied, Ronin went with him.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Beverly Crusher sat frozen in her bed staring at her pad, mug of warm Tarkalian tea forgotten in her grasp. </p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <em>No, it couldn’t be. </em>
</p>
<p>When Wesley had originally told her about his new man, she’d been so pleased that her little boy had found someone, and that he’d come to acknowledge a part of himself that she’d always sensed was there. It didn’t matter to her about the age difference, in fact Beverly was the last person to judge a May-December romance. She couldn’t resist a look over at where Josue lay sleeping beside her, his thick curly hair peaking out from under the bedsheets. The last person indeed!  No, she’d been excited to meet this new Ronin of Wesley’s until—she swallowed against a wave of nausea.</p>
<p><br/>It had to be the same one! The coincidences were too much—a Scottish lover named Ronin who came into Wesley’s life like a whirlwind, <em>that</em> could be coincidence, but the style of dress, the—the candle for gods sakes. It had to be <em>him</em>. And Beverly didn’t know how the hell that creature had survived, but she wasn’t about to let it prey on her little boy, her only son!</p>
<p>But what could she do? She remembered the hold Ronin could have on a person, and she was so far away—it would take days to get to the capital and from there a shuttle to a federation transit hub where she could beam, even leaving aside the issue that she had no idea where in the universe the <em>Magna Carta</em> was at this exact moment. What was a mother to do? She wracked her brain. <em>How can I reach him?</em></p>
<p>Of course! Who would be able to reach a young Star Fleet lieutenant at a moment’s notice and force him to listen to reason—Deanna! Her fingers flew over the pad screen, calling up the familiar connection. As the vid call rang, she begged under her breath for Deanna to pick up, and after a long moment, she did.</p>
<p>“Beverly? Are you all right, you look like you’ve seen a ghost!”</p>
<p>“Hello, Deanna,” She said, hoping her desperation was not too obvious in her tone. “I need your help—“</p>
<p>She reviewed the latest revelations of yesteryear’s possessive Scotsman, and his latest manifestation in Wesley’s life.</p>
<p>“Oh dear, you <em>did</em> see a ghost!” Troi said, eyes wide with surprise. “I always thought Wes was a friend of Lwaxana, but these days you never know!” Deanna chuckled.</p>
<p>“Deanna, now is not the time to comment on his lifestyle choices,” interjected Beverly.</p>
<p>“Isn’t it a bit out of vogue to call them <em>choices</em> these days?” Troi pressed her, “But I’ll quit teasing you. How can I help you?”</p>
<p>“Find Wes. He’s on the <em>Magna Carta</em>. You’ve got to separate him from that candle. You’ve got to destroy the candle. I just can’t figure out how it could have even survived!” Crusher exclaimed.</p>
<p>“Will might know someone who can help me locate his ship. Don’t worry, Beverly. I will take care of your son and get rid of this parasite once and for all,” Deanna said firmly.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>***</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Lieutenant’s personal log. Star date 2388.9. My life is a series of moments. Moments with Ronin and the vague, liminal time in between. In fact, sometimes I can’t remember doing anything but being with Ronin. Right now, he’s by his candle, humming an old Scottish tune. He keeps telling me how much I’ll adore Scotland, how when he touches my ass, he feels he is going between perfect hills in the Scottish highlands of his youth. I do wonder if he is actually 800 years old, or if he just likes to joke about it.</p>
<p>I told Captain Ro that this would be my last tour. If I were by an M-Class planet or a Federation colony, I would have already left. She was so confused. Why couldn’t she understand I am in love and I need to spend more time with Ronin? </p>
<p>Duty awaits… my shift is about to start on the bridge. Ronin’s playing the bagpipes again. My heart is just exploding.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>***</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Take us down to Warp 2, Ensign,” Wesley remarked, sitting in the Captain’s chair. It was good to be Number Two sometimes, when Ro and Nenna were in the Ready Room, talking to Starfleet command about Ferengi trade tariffs over subspace.</p>
<p>“Lieutenant, incoming vessel moving in to intercept.” </p>
<p>“Full stop. Yellow alert! What kind of vessel is this?”</p>
<p>“It’s a Federation runabout,” said Ensign McShennany, “And it’s hailing us.”</p>
<p>“Open a channel,” directed Wesley.Curly brown hair. Almond eyes. That pale milky cleavage. He knew that face and those bosoms anywhere. Wesley grinned, ear to ear.</p>
<p>“Counselor Troi!” He shouted</p>
<p>“So formal, Wes! You know you can always call me ‘Deanna,’” she replied.</p>
<p>“You were headed straight for us!” </p>
<p>“I was indeed. I actually came to talk to you… it has been so long and I am bringing a message from afar,”  Deanna said coolly.</p>
<p>Wesley was not sure what this was about. He had another four hours on the bridge until he was able to see Ronin—well, until he was officially done his shift. What does she have to talk to me about?</p>
<p>“Counselor, you can pull into our shuttle bay. I have a few more hours in my shift here and if it’s okay with you, we can speak afterwards,” Wesley explained.</p>
<p>“Of course, Wes,” she replied</p>
<p>The transmission ended. </p>
<p>“Well? Make sure our guest is given quarters on her arrival! She was the counselor on the <em>Enterprise</em>!” Lieutenant Crusher ordered Ensign McShennany.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>***</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Days seemed to pass, but it was only the four hours he was obligated to spend away from Ronin. Wesley stood immediately up from his chair when Nenna came by. </p>
<p>“You’re relieved, Lieutenant.”</p>
<p>“Thank you, Commander,” he replied to Nenna, nodding. As she sat in the Captain’s chair and lowered her head to look at the controls, he noticed her skin markings bend with her craning neck. What an interesting species, the Trill.</p>
<p><br/>He walked to the turbolift and said, “Deck nine.” Once the lift’s doors opened again, he walked towards Counselor Troi’s assigned quarters. He felt a nagging feeling in his jumpsuit… he’d be late to see Ronin today.</p>
<p>“Deanna?”</p>
<p>“Come in!” She shouted, as the doors opened.</p>
<p>He entered the room. Deanna Troi was a renowned beauty. Half-human, half-Betazoid, and fully endowed on her top half, Wesley thought. Even so, she seemed less alluring than a certain Scottish minx. Troi was seated at her table, licking chocolate ice cream slowly off a spoon, eyes closed. For a moment, Wesley was not sure if he should have even come into her quarters. This seemed like a rather personal time.</p>
<p>“I hate to interrupt anything…” he began</p>
<p>“Oh nonsense!” She gleamed. “Do sit and get comfortable. Can I get anything from the replicator for you?”</p>
<p>“Some scotch with peat bitters.”</p>
<p>“Oh? I didn’t know the replicators made synthehol in that fashion!” She turned her head, “computer, one scotch synthehol with peat bitters!”</p>
<p>The drink appeared, and she stood and brought it to Wesley from the replicator. Sitting back down, she locked eyes with him.</p>
<p>“I hear you’ve started to see someone special. Your mother reached out to me because she was pleased to hear about it.”</p>
<p>Wesley blushed. </p>
<p>“Oh yes, he’s so special. You’d love him, Deanna, I just know it!” Wesley said, grinning, eyes sparkling.</p>
<p>“Yes,” Deanna drawled, “Do tell me more.” </p>
<p>And he did. As she sat there nodding, hearing a familiar story about an old-fashioned Scotsman named Ronin. The long blonde hair. The candle. That wretched candle, Deanna thought. <br/>Wes started to divulge into the full-body climaxes he experienced, the throes of passion in a cloud of sexual green mist. He grew silent, lost in his thoughts about Ronin. </p>
<p>She saw that mesmerized, obsessed look in his eye and she recognized it from all those years ago, on Caldos IV. A part of her hurt for Wesley. After all, he finally could experience life’s greatest pleasure, but it had been adulterated by this willful ghost. Hadn’t Ronin had enough Howard women? She sensed pure ecstasy and satisfaction emanating from the young lieutenant. It hurt her to interrupt him in his naive reverie. </p>
<p>“Wesley, I have something to share with you.”</p>
<p>And share she did. Anger flashed across Wesley’s face as she told him detail after detail. Generations of Howard women, all preyed upon by Ronin, until the last scion of them all, a male. Ronin’s obsession with their family was not limited to its females, as he clearly found a way to penetrate the youngest generation’s heir.</p>
<p>“It can’t be true!” He shouted, standing abruptly. A tear started falling down his right cheek.</p>
<p>Deanna reached out to him and grabbed his forearm. “Show me this Ronin. I will help you see the truth. You know I am not lying to you. It breaks my heart to tell this to you, just as it did when Jean-Luc and I stopped him with your mother.”</p>
<p>His mother. Ronin and his mother? Wesley felt nauseated, the vomit starting up his throat. Then, he considered those moments of pure eros, of being enveloped in the Scotsman, of being entered by the Scotsman. Would he ever feel this good again?</p>
<p>And Jean-Luc. Why couldn’t he have someone Jean-Luc instead? Or anyone else with a sense of duty, really…</p>
<p>Wesley sighed, breathing his next breaths slowly, closing his eyes. He centered his thoughts: Captain by 35. Family. Children. A life of service in Starfleet.</p>
<p>His eyes opened. “Okay, Counselor. I will introduce you to Ronin.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>***</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>Dear Geordi,</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>I don’t know how I can repay you. Certainly, I will need to, as this was no Starfleet business of yours or mine. The technology you made all those years ago… well I am sure you never imagined reconfiguring the plasma offloaders to be used in this way. In fact, we should probably keep this story between us.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>You see, what you did was help me sort out a terms of surrender, for an 800 year old family affair. When we spoke on subspace, Counselor Troi had finished negotiating how we’d use your technology to settle an old score. The spirit that occupied the candle was able, through your plasma offloader technology, to be isolated into a compact containment system, which happens to be an artificial phallus. That way, he, or it, can be an interactive object at the user’s discretion.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>I will owe you a drink the next time I see you. Then, I hope I’ll have someone to introduce you to… as my way of saying thanks.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Yours,</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Wesley</em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Epilogue</p>
<p>“I’m back!” Commander Crusher called, entering his quarters on the Enterprise. It was a much bigger space than the one he once shared with his mother. He thought of her briefly, of her life on Raisa. It was beautiful when he visited last month. And she adored Jillix. Who wouldn’t?  He’d never been happier.</p>
<p><br/>From out of the bathroom, Jillix emerged, gorgeous as ever, and totally naked. Looking at Wesley, they opened their mouth,  “How’s my number one?”</p>
<p><br/>Wesley smiled ear to ear, doffing his jumpsuit with ease. He crossed to room to meet them, guiding Jillix to the bed. The atmosphere became electric between them.</p>
<p><br/>“Computer,” Crusher said, “Activate Scottish fantasy sequence.”</p>
<p><br/>The room dimmed and a green haze enveloped him and Jillix. He could see just fine. It was almost tickling, what Jillix did to him with their extra appendages.</p>
<p><br/>“How was your day?” Jillix breathed into his ear, feeling his throbbing cock in their third (or was it fourth?) appendage.</p>
<p><br/>Wesley sighed deeply, and gasped as he felt Jillix hit a particularly sensual part of him. </p>
<p><br/>“It was good,” he choked out. Smiling, he coyly said,  “Don’t forget to use it.”</p>
<p><br/>Jillix’s face widened, then was twinkling with a knowing look. They’d never forget. They took their seventh appendage and grasped the glowing green dildo. Wesley’s face was gleeful when it came into view.</p>
<p>“I’ll always take care of you when you come home,” said Jillix, entering Wesley with the dildo. </p>
<p><br/>Over his moans, and the tones of celebratory bagpipes, they thought,<em> I still don’t understand how a candle ended up in this thing, but whatever makes him happy.</em></p>
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